No One Lives Forever
by ThisisPorky
Summary: Based off the video "TF2 - No One Lives Forever" by "DaCameraBeard". Scout tells his thoughts on when he finds Medic, Pryo, and Solider all murdered, and when he watches the Sniper die. Rated T for death and Scouts swearing.


No one lives forever. I've learned that with my time staying here. It's sad to see them go, to see them struggling for life with a bullet in there chest and knowing you can't do anything to help them or to stop the pain. It makes me sick to the stomach to know that, and I wish I can change that very fact. But I ain't no doctor; I ain't no Medic. I can't come all the way out here - in the middle of the war that's been going on since the ancient times - and tell them to stop fighting over whatever the fuck they're fighting over because I don't like the way things are.

It's not _my_ call.

My friends die. They die because of what they've fought for. Sometimes, just a deadly hit and run, others, painfully, and that just makes me sick to the very core. For whatever reason they like, they kill. It's just out of dumb things they didn't like the other person doing, whether it be because of the new guns they had just received or just because of one single Domination. It never happens on the battle-field...well, it does, obviously. If it never happened there, then whats the point of all the murdering and fighting over whatever it is we are? No, it always happens on a cease-fire moment, when the Spawn thing was turned off. That way, they'll never see the light of day ever again and they'll die a slow and painful death to make them suffer for what they were told to fight for. I've seen it happen to Soldier, I've witnessed the Sniper die in the emergency bed. He wouldn't wake up.

He'd never wake up again.

The Heavy, Demoman, Spy, Engineer and me remain here, at the base of Tue_Fort, fighting for our lives. Pyro...the way she was murdered just sickened me... She was nice and kind, a gentle-hearted person, but when it came to fighting the RED's, you couldn't stop her, which made her even more bad-ass. But...arrows in both of her arms and legs... I managed to take one arrow out of her left hand, and it just fell to her side. I remember placing my hand gently on her stomach. My eyes were closed and tears were blinding my sight. Fuck, one was even through her stomach! But then, I felt a weak hand enclose around mine. It made me snap back to reality and look up at her. Her still mask-covered face raised slightly, and with my other hand, I reached up and placed it on the side of her face. She just nuzzled into it like a scared animal would in the middle of the night. I just remember bringing my face close to the sides of hers and crying. She mumbled something which I couldn't understand, which just made me cry even more. And then, everything on her just went numb. No breathing, no grasp, nothing. She was dead. That picture was the only thing I have left to remember her by, and with all the other memories, too. "Cozying Up at the Camp Fire" she'd named it, no blood on this one, just dirt marks.

_'Mumbles... not you, m-mumbles...'_

Medic was left to die on a pole. I remember when I first met him. Yeah, he was a mad German doctor that loved his doves and birds, but he always helped out when someone was injured or dying thanks to a bullet. I remember a photograph someone took when I first went for my first check-up. "#1 Medic", it read, smears of blood on the edges. It wasn't funny then, him telling me stories of when he was younger and when he was in this wired place full of screams and agony, but now that I look back on those few memories, I always find myself chuckling or just shaking my head with a massive grin on my face. His doves are looked after by Heavy, with him being the closet to him and all. Archimedes misses him. We all do. You can hear his hoots for him. You can hear that thing he does in the night just to try and lure in his master that's dead. I've visited him once. He looked so down. I mean, fuck, I know it's an animal, but they have feelings too... But when Medic gave me a thumbs up right there from his death bed with a grin on his face... I could have cried...

_'N-no... Medic, w-wake up, man... I fo-forgot my last check u-up...please...w-wake up...'_

Then their's Soldier; right near the spawn-room, too. He'd been shot numbers of times in roughly the same area: the chest His left arm had been ripped right off, and he held his helmet with his remaining hand near his chest, his eyes closed. I felt so _angry_, so _hurt_. I remember that dead look he gave me when I knelt beside him, his eyes full of pain. But his expression softened. I knew he was tired. I knew these was his last seconds here in this cruel world. I held out my hand, and he slowly reached out and took a grasp of it. He smiled, and right before I could say anything, he closed his eyes, let his head fall backwards, and let his hand fall numbly to his side. Those were the good days... he treated me like a lost Brother of his own, he even named the only picture I have of him left "Brothers in Arms". Him giving me a noogie...blood staining the edges from where I'd been shot didn't really help, but I guess I forgot to clean it. I'd kept them all in the same place, the same pocket. I wish I had a better memory place for all the good and happy times I'd spent with him...

_'Soldier...you s-said not to die o-on the job.. y-ya breakin' ya own rule, d-dammit!'_

Sniper. How the fuck did he die? Lethal poising in his tea. I don't know who the fuck planted it or why, or what it was, for that matter, but not even the Medic's super gun thing worked on him. His shirt was off, and the Blue glow was hitting straight to his heart, but by that time, it was too late. I waited for days. I sat down in that chair and waited for someone to tell me everything would be alright, that Snipers would make it and he'd live on to fight another day... But he didn't... he died there, right there, in the emergency bed... Not even a good-bye... nothing... "Good Campin'" Was what he named the picture we both had. It was good, he taught me how to use his fire-arm. When we were coming back from the trip, he told me of his adventures in the 'Outback', as he called it. Some might think he was boring, but his stories were awesome to listen too... Fuck, man, he'd told me so many stories I can't even begin to think of what they were and what time they were all set in...

_'Snipa'...? No, Sn-Snipa', wake up... Don't d-die on me.. you promi-promised you'd t-take me to see Australia one day...'_

That was all three weeks ago, now, all of that on the same fucking day. We still fought on, regardless of all the people we were down on. The RED's had won every time, but now, I just feel worthless without the whole team here. ...Fuck that, we all do. No one was putting any effort into the fight because it felt like the whole team had broken up. Friendships included.

I go back to the places I found them in. The emergency bed, the pole, and both walls the Pyro and Soldier spent there final moments on. The memories still stuck in my head, and every time I remembered something good and fun with the people that had been murdered this way, I always find myself crying and anger boiling up inside me. Tears would flow down every time, and nothing I did would stop them. I hate this feeling, but I know their's nothing I can to about it. The blood still remains in the same spots, left uncleaned, the bodies gone. They had been buried at the back of the base, so everyone could visit there graves. The arrows were still there, the blood, that pole, and the beeping machine thing beside the same bed Sniper died on. Everything laid the same. Untouched. The horrid images always stuck in my mind, and it always replaced the spots I found them in.

Some part of me wanted that to change, to get rid of every thing in its wake so all these flash-backs would go away. The other part...

...the other part just seemed to roll with it.


End file.
